Move On
by hpdreamz
Summary: Harry and Dudley have always steered clear from each other, but its amazing how a tragedy can bring even them together.


Move On 

It started after mum died from cancer. Dad was alone for a week before I returned home. Mr Watson had called me to his office to tell me the bad news and to reassure me that it was alright that I left for home and returned when I was ready. The funeral was scheduled for Sunday. I remember the lump that had formed in my throat and I waited till I was tucked up in bed before I cried. In the morning, I awoke to a snowy white owl tapping on the window, a letter in its beak, which I tore open ferociously. It just had to be a letter from Potter; why else would an owl deliver it? I was right, Potter had heard the news, and he would be travelling home on Friday. Why he felt the need to come home was anybody's guess. Mum had never wanted him home when she was alive; he was a burden on us, so why would she want him there now she was dead? I gritted my teeth; wasn't it enough that he'd as good as killed her himself, that he had to come home and gloat? The owl hooted from the window sill and scrunching up the letter I threw the ball at it. Watching it fly away, I regretting not having done more harm to it; Potter had killed my mum, his stupid bird should have been sent back in pieces just to let him feel a fraction of the hurt I felt.

In the next few days, I hardly spoke and I didn't eat. My mates left me alone, for which I hated them. I didn't want to be alone, with only misery to consume me. I packed up and left that Friday. The rain coming down in torrents, I dragged my trunk across the platform, waiting for the train to arrive. Ten minutes later, I sat drenched in a train compartment watching the rainfall, eagerly awaiting the comfort of Dad at home and relishing the fact that I would soon have my revenge on Potter.

_The house was deadly silent, the very house which was full of noisy memories of isolation that Harry longed to forget. Uncle Vernon__'__s face remained forever expressionless and he left Dudley and me to deal with things by ourselves. I noted how he spoke to us both; it was a bit like how Dudley spoke to me, but Dudley's words were filled with hatred, whereas Uncle Vernon's were unreadable. I was still mourning the loss of Sirius from months before, at school. Ron and Hermione gave me a wide berth when I fell into a sullen mood and I admit I felt slightly thankful that I now had people to share my misery with me. When he first saw me, Dudley had lunged at me, shouting obscenities through his tears. I remember how he'd shouted in my face that he wanted to kill me, but after a few weak punches he lost the strength and stalked away. Thus another death on my conscious, I knew for sure that I living with them had caused the Dursleys' considerable stress and so maybe I was partly to blame. I was coping, god knows I'd had enough practise, but Dudley seemed to be lost in despair. When I myself lay awake trying to not fall asleep and embark on another nightmare, I could hear Dudley every night, crying himself to sleep. I'd planned on leaving for Hogwarts straight after the funeral, having had more than my fair share of grief in the few days I'd been there and ready to try and move on, to grieve in my own way, on my own, but even after years of hating the Dursleys', I didn't have it in me to be so insensitive to leave Dudley to cope on his own when it was so obvious that it was beyond Uncle Vernon to care for even himself these days, let alone Dudley. Depression overtook him and he rapidly lost weight, which caused him to keep falling ill. I repeatedly delayed my departure; so wrapped up in nursing Dudley to health and avoiding awkward questions that before I knew it winter was upon us. Weeks passed and Christmas was treated as just another day. Dudley and I sat at the table on December the 25__th,__ eating micro waved soup from the day before, for dinner. Dudley had initially refused to give me a share. _

"_You've stole my mum from me and still you want more. Why don't you just go somewhere and die. I hate you! Why don't you go back to your freak school?" he'd shouted. Stomping away empty handed to his room, the hunger must have been overwhelming, because half an hour later he slouched into the room again and helped himself to the majority of the soup. _

_As spring approached, the sun began to shine down on Privet Drive, but the curtains were drawn and it didn't seem to touch the darkness that consumed the house. Dudley and I were constantly left alone in the house as Uncle Vernon spent most of his time at the pub. Leaving Privet Drive was no longer an option and I was forced to write letters full of lies about why I'd not returned to Hogwarts yet. I was half thankful, half disappointed that they seemed to believe me and had not felt the need to visit. I missed Hogwarts so much that every day was spent fantasising about it, setting myself deadlines to be free of Privet Drive, but finding that they came and went. Still I wrote letter after letter full of reassurances, determined to not resolve to use magic to make our lives easier for fear of being expelled from the only place at which I'd ever felt at home. And I went to bed every night an image of Ron and Hermione blinking at me across the Gryffindor table etched on the insides of my eyelids. Uncle Vernon had now lost his job because he would continually turn up to work drunk. Most days he left tins of food on the counter to make dinner, some days he didn't. He came home drunk most nights, telling Dudley and I of his most precious memories of his deceased wife. On these nights I usually went to bed late, Dudley's harsh words still ringing in my ears and my cheeks wet. _

It happened on one of these nights, Harry and I found that there was no food in the house and so we were unable to make dinner for Dad.

"Maybe if you'd pissed off to your freak school and stayed there there'd still be enough food for my family. What, are you now trying to kill me of hunger? I'm sure you've been getting yourself meals with that thing of yours"

"I haven't been getting food myself – I'm as hungry as you are."

I chucked a coaster at him, smiling as he winced at the pain. We sat on the table rapping our hands on the cold wood, hungry and hardly talking. Dad arrived at half 11, eyes red and smelling of alcohol. He collapsed on the threshold and we both dragged him over to the sofa, heaving him onto it.

"Where is dinner?" he yelled at me.

"There's n-no food d-dad," I stammered. I had a sudden sense of foreboding, something was about to happen. Dad suddenly stood up unexpectedly and pushed me away from him. He had pushed me quite hard and I painfully crashed into the marble fireplace; pain coursed through my body and I screwed my eyes up with the agony. Wincing as I stood up, I realised I'd broken something and I looked up in time to see Harry thrown across the room and slamming into the wall opposite. Dad stood there with a manic gleam in his eye, I gulped as I saw him remove his belt and I backed up against the wall as he slowly advanced on me.

_It happened the same way pretty much everyday after that, over little things like the tap dripping. Dudley and I were trapped in the house; food supplies were becoming less and less, as Uncle Vernon left no food or money anymore. It seemed Uncle Vernon had also squandered Dudley's savings from his bank account. Dudley stole the card back from his father and we went shopping feeling that things were at last going right, but the truth had come easily when the cashier said there was only 5p left. Uncle Vernon had spent all the money on alcohol and gambling no doubt. I wrestled with my decision to not use magic and eventually concluded that I'd rather be alive and expelled, than not expelled but dead. First I tried to summon food from the shops, but my magic didn't work anymore. It took a while for me to understand. I remembered the odd feeling that had recurred in the first weeks of having arrived at Privet Drive, it was hard to explain how it felt; at the time I had not paid it much attention, but now I knew it must have been my magic leaking away that I had felt; perhaps it was the lack of food, perhaps the guilt Dudley brought about in me, but it didn't matter what had caused it, I couldn't perform magic anymore and my body felt hollow without it. Dudley didn't shout at me anymore, he didn't even speak that much, I don't think he blamed me for his mum's death anymore. I think he'd given up. I continued to pretend in letters that I was fine, as were Dudley and Uncle Vernon. I didn't know why I lied anymore, I just did. I almost hated Ron and Hermione believing me and sending letters every other day asking how I was and telling me how things were at school. They__'__d passed their apparition tests and were studying hard, as the workload was growing bigger. It was pretty much routine by now. I just scribbled back short notes and sent them off. Hedwig died from starvation soon after. Dudley helped me bury her in the garden and we flattened the soil down afterwards, lest Uncle Vernon get angry with us for digging in the garden._

We found a guitar in the shed and we stood for hours on the high street, begging for money. Sometimes I sang and Harry played, and sometimes he sang and I played. We weren't very good, but passers by still dropped pocket change in the tin we had and it was often enough to buy some tins of food. I'd given up shouting at Potter, it didn't make me feel better anymore and it was much easier just to get along with him. I always thought Potter to be hero-like; we'd had letters sent from his school telling us of his latest adventure. He was so….so strong and fiery. The fire seemed to have gone out, and we were now both together, miserable with what had become of our lives. It was too hard to put into words how grateful I was that he'd stayed with me. He'd confessed that he'd lost his magic ability and I accepted it without question. One look at his face banished any doubts about whether he was lying. The months passed and we both became desperate to escape. I tried t contact my friends, and subtly invite Harry and I to stay over at their house for a few days, but it seemed that the word had spread about my fathers behaviour and even when we turned up on their door step they shut the door on our faces apologising profusely. We decided we'd have to rough it; travel for a while until we could maybe find a hostel to live in. We set out one night, with a few supplies, but dad found us a few hours later, wandering around in the nearby park. We had been wondering where to sleep, when we'd been pulled into the car and kicked roughly into our seats. We'd only just entered the house when we turned to see Dad was waiting for us, belt in hand, and grinning. We didn't try it ever again.

_Summer came ever closer and the owls from Ron and Hermione seemed more suspicious and worried. Still, I lied and reassured them that all was well and that I__'__d see them soon. I knew I__ wouldn't. Being at Privet Drive had been such a huge change from living at Hogwarts, where everyone's eyes were on me and whispers followed me. Everyone wanted me to be a hero, but I just wanted to live my life. I was only human. I hadn't even been able to retain my magic ability during the few worst weeks of my life. I definitely wasn't as powerful as people thought. And I didn't want to have to worry about those closest to me; wondering which one Voldemort would attempt to kill off next possibly leaving their family with the same fate Dudley, Uncle Vernon and I had experienced. I may be hungry and downtrodden at 4 Privet Drive, but I could stick by Dudley and the others I cared about were far away from me, where I couldn't bring Voldemort to target them. Even if I'd gone back to Hogwarts it'd be hard stepping into the boy-who-lived shoes once more and I knew I'd be wrought with the same old worries again and the insecurities would come flooding back. I wasn't talented – just luck – how was I to go about fulfilling the prophecy Nevertheless I missed Ron and Hermione so much and something inside me died a little more every time I lied to them and told them I was fine._

It happened on June the 21st, I can remember it vividly. Harry and I were alone as usual, when there was a knock at the door. We hid from view, glancing darkly at the door every few seconds as the knocks became louder and constant. It couldn't be dad, he'd never leave the pub so early, so it had to be someone else, but we wouldn't open the door, it might lead to another beating. Finally, after 5 minutes, the door flew open and slammed against the wall. Scrambling to our feet we got ready to run.

"Harry, Dudley… are you home?" called a girl as Harry and I met each other's eyes.

"It's them," he whispered to me as he walked slowly down the stairs.

I followed him and found him staring at the intruders, who I realised were Harry's friends, a girl with bushy brown hair and a familiar looking boy with flaming red hair. They stared back at Harry, evidently taking in his bruised face and black eye, and then they spotted me and stared even harder.

"What happened?" the girl choked, tears welling in her eyes. It was Harry who answered.

"Uncle Vernon,"

Realisation slowly dawned on their faces and they turned to look each other in the eye;

"Come on! You're going to come with us. I can't believe it!" the girl said loudly.

"Get your stuff and we'll leave," demanded the boy. "You can't stay here!"

Harry didn't move.

"I'm not sure I want to…go," he whispered. The girl moved forward and embraced Harry; I could hear her whispering something to him. They broke apart and Harry slid down the wall to sit on the floor, the girl joined him.

"I know that," Harry whispered, his eyes red rimmed, "but it's just…so…" I knew what was going to happen.

"I'm not going!" I screamed and ran upstairs. I heard the boy shout and chase after me as I skidded into the bathroom and locked the door, sliding down to sit up against it. I didn't want to go. I didn't want to leave Dad; he was the only family I had and it wasn't his fault he was the way he was. As much as I wanted to escape, I didn't want to leave him alone. If I went with these people what would happen? I'd be put in a children's home, and no one would want me. I would be 'the boy who was beaten', classified as disturbed and potentially violent. True, I'd tried to escape with Harry, we'd been planning to leave Dad on his own, but I'd always regretted it. I didn't want that. I had had enough change already, I had had enough! I wanted a family, a place called home. I wanted Dad to be normal and I wanted Mum. I wanted Mum now, more than ever. I wanted Christmases around a large table with lots of family, good television and piles of food and those lazy sort of days where the hours trudged by and I complained of boredom. Why couldn't things be like they used to be? I listened to them arguing outside.

"Are you crazy?" the girl screamed.

"We have no choice… we'll have to force him out!" the boy shouted back.

"No, we won't force him. He's been through enough, we have to take him away as quickly and as willingly as possible, his dad's violent, and he's never going to change. Dudley deserves better than this," she said quietly.

I sat there, her words a voice over for my thoughts and before I knew it I was sobbing. I cried for all the time I'd lost that I would never get back; all those times I was rude to her, I cried at the uncertainty of the future, and I cried because in the space of 6 months my whole life had changed.

_We all watched as the door unlocked and Dudley stepped out, forcefully wiping tears from his eyes. He'd been crying for over an hour and we had been at a loss as to what to do. _

"_I__'__ll come,__"__ he muttered. I wrapped my arms around him, giving him the comfort, I knew he needed._

"_It__'__s going to be all right. We still have each other; I__'__m your family. Your dad needs help and so do we, I realise now,__"__ I managed._

_I'd been downstairs with Hermione for a long time, and she'd finally managed to win me over. It was like a light had been switched on when Hermione talked to me, she made everything much clearer. She knew I hadn't had a carefree life, but she assured me that we were both better off, away from here. Her words were the answers to the questions I__'__d been asking myself and I knew she was right. Hermione was always right. It struck me that I__'__d much rather suffer at Hogwarts with Ron and Hermione at my side, then stay here and live like this. And I was at loss as to how I'd gotten myself into such a rut with my misery. We had to move on._

Harry let go of me and I sniffed, feeling slightly better. The girl and boy looked at me kindly.

"I'm Hermione Granger," she said and she took my hand and squeezed it. "This is Ron Weasley," she explained, indicating to the boy. "We're going to take you and Harry to the hospital and then call the Police. I think you should both pack some things. I'll wait here."

_Dudley and I held onto Ron and Hermione as they apparated to the hospital and in a moments time we found ourselves standing at the entrance. After we were checked over, Ron had sent an owl to his mum and we next apparated to the Burrow, where we were greeted by Mrs Weasley who burst into tears at the sight of us. The police arrived to talk to us both soon after and Uncle Vernon was arrested. _

"_It was abuse – what he did. It was abuse and its illegal" Dudley babbled. _

_Harry nodded "He'll get the help he needs too. I'm pretty sure he's not the only one who turned...like that" _

"_Yeah, we've all been a bit sad for a long time." Dudley muttered watching Harry._

_It took Harry a moment to smile, it'd been so long since he last had and he felt as though he'd almost forgotten. "Yeah… a bit sad... I never told you, but you know my godfather..."_

"The murderer…?" I was now frightened, shocked that Harry was so willing to introduce another violent character so quickly after what we'd been through.

"He was never a murderer – he was innocent. But anyway he died in July, and it was because of my own stupidity" Harry looked away, and I was sure that tears had filled his eyes

"Oh, sorry..." I didn't quite know what to say. I felt terrible that I'd been so horrible to him when he came back home "I'm sure it wasn't your fault"

"The person who killed my parents tried to lure me somewhere by making me think my godfather was there. So I went to save him and he wasn't there and I… got attacked and then… he came to save me and it happened…"

"Yeah, but you weren't to know that"

"Hermione knew it was a trick and I didn't even believe her…"

I felt the need to change the subject as Harry subtly wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "That guy, he's still after you, is he?"

"Yeah, the most powerful dark wizard ever and I've got to kill him, before he kills me…it's complicated, but only I can do it – kill him."

I was in unfamiliar territory; I'd never talked properly to Harry and this particular topic seemed to make him wilt with dread. It was beginning to dawn on me that in his world, Harry must be famous for his extraordinary past, and now it seemed, his future too. "Oh right, well you must be good at all that stuff otherwise it wouldn't have been you chosen would it?"

"I suppose not" I was relieved to see him smile, but I felt the need to apologise as guilt consumed me

"All that stuff I said about you killing my mum, I didn't mean it…it must've been really bad for you – your godfather having died. I don't blame you for my mum. I was upset. Thanks for staying."

"You were a right git, always have been, but I wasn't going to leave you like that. You turned out kinda ok in the end." Harry grinned.

_I'd never have dreamed of telling Dudley before, but it was surprisingly helpful to talk to someone so naïve of Voldemort's power. Mrs Weasley was talking to us both when the police returned. They wanted a word with Mrs Weasley in private and so Dudley and I sat in silence until they walked back into the room. _

"_Pc Fen was thinking of putting you in a children__'__s home,__"__ she said. __"__I told them there is a family right here, who would love to take you in and treat as their own. In fact, it would be a pleasure. Would you like that?__"_

Harry and I looked at each other. I could tell Harry was instantly decided, but I frowned

"Could I have some time to decide – a few days?" Ron's mum had nodded.

It took 2 days for me to make a choice. Loitering around the house dodging objects that seemed to move on their own, and wonderingly observing myself in the mirror, my wounds healing rapidly by way of magic, I was soon certain that my dad's idea of wizards was wrong. The idea of wizards being freaks of nature, ingrained upon my mind for so long by that time, it took me a long time to gather the facts from the only encounters with wizards I had experienced. First and foremost the most terrifying experience of gagging on a tongue too large for my mouth. I remembered how after a summer on diet I'd pounced on the sweet – I'd not been offered it. It'd been my own greed that had lead to my tongue swelling. It'd been on that same occasion that I'd first met the Weasleys' I now recognised Ron from that same day. True, Ron's dad had blown apart the living room, but it definitely seemed to be a mistake and he had put it all right afterwards. He also tried to undo my tongue, but Dad had thrown things at him.

And then the first ever time I encountered a wizard I'd come away with a pig's tail. The big guy had said something about Dumblefore and Dad had yelled something back. I couldn't remember the details much – I'd been too busy eating Harry's first ever birthday cake at the time. I recall that I'd felt a pang of shame at this sordid detail. Anyway I remembered screaming as I felt something alive touch my backside then the full horror of feeling a tail there. I'd spent days afterwards trying to forget its existence, trying to forgo the thought that dad had been to blame due to his rudeness.

Lastly I remember staring out at the Weasley's garden, thinking of the many acts of kindness towards me that the Weasleys' had shown since I got there. Mrs Weasley had given me shelter, warmth and food without so much as a moment of hesitation. And the food she made was the most wonderful I'd ever tasted. So all that remained was to weigh up my feelings; I'd concluded that wizards were no more freaks of nature than I was. And the feeling grew until I felt so ashamed of myself for believing everything my father had ever thought without thinking for myself. In my time of need wizards had come to the rescue, while y so called friends ran for cover. The decision lay crystal clear ahead of me, and I decided to act on it. I wasn't sure what would become of my future, but at least I wouldn't be alone.

Harry was ecstatic when I told him and slapped me on the back saying things like "good man" and "no regrets, I promise". I can't quite explain how I felt right then. It was a mixture of old shame and hope for the future mostly. No doubt I was feeling some gratitude to Harry as well, because when I punched his arm, it was not with all the force I could muster with a scowl on my face, as had been the case so far, but it was a feeble attempt at expressing my thanks without words, and as I grinned at my adoptive mother I think they got the message; Harry seemed to look very awkward and Mrs Weasley hugged me tight.

"_The police are starting to clear out your house, they found a letter in the attic, it was addressed to you,__"__ she explained as she handed Dudley a letter; I saw that the letter was sealed with red wax; it was unmistakeably from Hogwarts. She set a pile of papers down beside Dudley and I could tell that she was trying to hide a smile._

"_You're very behind having missed 5 years of work, but the headmaster has agreed that intense private lessons for the remainder of your education should suffice. The last thing we want is for you to be in lessons with 11 year olds." She laughed as Dudley seemed to shake his head and reread the letter "I dare say Hogwarts will be unlike anything you've seen before, but you'll fit right at home. I just need you to pick your lesson choices from that other sheet and you'll start on Monday. Dumbledore's written you a letter…"__ she gushed as Dudley looked up at us both grinning. I grinned back; Dudley was a wizard._


End file.
